


Hungry

by hornybraincell



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alpha Zack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodily Fluids, Breeding, Breeding Facility, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Comeplay, Forced Pregnancy, Human Livestock, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sephiroth/Cloud, Lactation, M/M, Omega Cloud, Oral Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Referenced amputation, Zack is Not a Good Person in This Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23817040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hornybraincell/pseuds/hornybraincell
Summary: Getting drafted by Shinra it doesn't necessarily mean you'll end up in the army. If you're an omega, you might just end up somewhere else. After all, what better way to create super soldiers than by breeding two enhanced specimens?
Relationships: Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 13
Kudos: 122





	Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i am SO SORRY i keep writing evil zack he's just so tasty???? i promise i love zack he is one of my faves. there is just something so delicious about seeing that personality all twisted tho, heheh
> 
> anyway, i hesitated about posting this one, but i know there are other people out there are into the same shit i am so this one is for y'all *blows kiss*
> 
> don't like/don't read --> didn't like/don't comment
> 
> i don't need to hear about why you didn't like something. just exit out. TIA!

It’s hard to decide which time of day is the worst when all times of day offer something uniquely horrible. From the time he wakes up – to be led to the milking machines and pump before doing anything else, to his first and only actual meal of the day – out of a trough and awfully humiliating, to the crux of his purpose here: to be bred.

Of course, he already  _ is _ pregnant right now, full of a litter of 6, he’d been informed by a scientist during his latest tortuous medical session, because he’s just  _ so _ lucky and fertile. He’s already pregnant, and he can’t be bred, so his purpose now is to be used. Of course.

It’s easy to lose track of time here, but Cloud knows he was 15 when he got what he thought was being drafted into the army, and was instead being led into this hell. Based on the amount of times he’s given birth, he suspects it’s been about 5 years since. 5 years, 6 pregnancies, never less than triplets. They’re not getting rid of him anytime soon. He’s too effective.

And, because life is constantly coming up with new forms of despair for him, he’s won some sort of sick lottery that’s made him the Silver General’s favorite. Cloud suspects that even if the scientists  _ did  _ decide they were sick of his attitude, fertility be damned, that Sephiroth would surely step in and stop them. And Sephiroth would get his way, because he always did.

It was becoming harder and harder to care, though. Harder and harder to listen to the hot streak in his belly that forced the backtalk and resistance out of him. The flames had long since been reduced to barely burning embers. He was just so  _ tired. _

Tiredness plagued him now, but it was edged out by the sensation of hunger. He was eating for 7, and, like normal, they insisted on giving him one meal, just enough nutrients so that he would survive. The babies didn’t need as much as normal children would – the mako running through his and their veins took care of that. So Cloud sat, round and full but gaunt and starving, in the corner of his stall, waiting for the inevitable.

An awful time of day. The second feeding.

It didn’t take long – somehow, he always managed to show up right when Cloud was getting desperate enough to try and suckle from his own tit.

They were certainly big enough – being milked once a day kept them producing – but Cloud’s thumbs and the top halves of his fingers had long been severed, hands rendered useless like proper livestock. It was possible to heft his tits up to his lips with the backs of his hands, but last time he’d been caught feeding himself, he’d been sentenced to several nights with his arms bound. It hadn’t been worth it.

So he continued to sit, stomach growling, hungry enough that when SOLDIER First Class Lt. Zack Fair walks in, he’s desperate to be fed.

“There you are,” Zack croons, sauntering in and swinging the gate shut behind him, advancing on where Cloud sits with a menacing shadow.

Cloud doesn’t say anything. It’s not worth it. And he doesn’t move – he’s heavy and weak, and knows by now that it’s best to just wait and see what Zack decides to do this time.

“Looking hungry,” he says, grabbing Cloud’s chin and jerking his head this way and that, observing. It tugs on the ring through Cloud’s nose. Makes him feel like an animal. And he is, to Zack, who has always been an alpha taught to believe that he was above omegas. Cloud wonders if he had a predisposition to being this cruel or if that was brought on by Shinra. It doesn’t matter, Cloud reminds himself. Why dwell on such things? Wherever the attitude came from, he was reaping the consequences now.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you full,” Zack says, undoing the rope that slips through the ring in Cloud’s nose. He rubs a thumb over the brand on Cloud’s cheek – a reminder that Cloud will never forget – and under his right eye, over the dark shadows there. Cloud’s face is thin and his eyes sunken in, he’s sure. His hair is unhealthy and straw-like, from the uneven strands that fall around his shoulders. He’s sure the rest of him looks worse; he hasn’t looked in a mirror in years. But however he looks, it doesn’t seem to matter to the SOLDIERs, who love to call him pretty and force him into increasingly embarrassing lingerie whenever they get the chance. He’s supposed to be an animal. He wishes they’d just leave him naked like one.

He’d tried that line, once. A long time ago, when Sephiroth had first made him wear something real special. He still wears the reminder of the backtalk; ears on his head that he’s not allowed to take off, a tail that stays in his ass unless someone wants to use it. At this point, though, he’s used to them. Thinks he’d feel weird without them.

“Open up, pet,” says Zack, and Cloud does. It’s humiliating – but it’s also the only meal he’ll have until tomorrow, and he’s starving.

He barely has time to think before Zack is shoving his cock down Cloud’s throat. He’s well practiced at taking it now; it’s large and thick and long, but he’s got nothing on Sephiroth or Angeal, and Cloud is an expert at alpha cock these days.

It’s obvious from the way that Zack’s hips move that he doesn’t want Cloud to suck dick tonight; rather, he wants to fuck Cloud’s face, and that’s just fine with him. It’s easier this way: he’d rather lay back and take it.

_ Lay back and do your duty,  _ as the mayor back in Nibelheim used to taunt him.  _ That’s all you’ll be good for, Strife, that’s all omegas are ever good for. _

He used to resent the mayor, insisting that he’d be something more than some alpha’s broodmare, popping out children and being a stay-at-home mother while his husband worked for their tiny shithole of a town. Now he’d give anything to be there. He’d take being mated to the mayor at this point. At least he’d have a name. Working hands. Proper clothes. All the luxuries he’d lost upon being forced into this hell.

Cloud opens his mouth wider when Zack’s knot starts to grow at the base, his balls slapping against Cloud’s chin with each thrust. He continues to the point where Cloud can’t open any wider, the tip of his cock rubbing against the raw back of Cloud’s throat. He wouldn’t want to get stuck in Cloud’s mouth – that would hinder his plans.

Sometimes, Zack likes to shoot down Cloud’s throat over and over until he’s satisfied, and the small refractory periods that SOLDIERs have guarantee that that’s a possibility, every time.

But today, Cloud can already tell by the way Zack has begun to pull out, Zack wants to watch him eat from his trough.

Zack jerks himself to completion and turns his body to shoot into the empty bin, watching his cum pile up to make a nice evening meal for Cloud. Alphas already produce a good bit with a single orgasm, but Cloud knows the drill. Zack gestures him over and stands there while he continues to let out spurts of cum until his knot is totally gone. If some of his spend gets on Cloud’s face, well, all the better. Cloud can wipe it off with his hand and lick it off from there.

Rinse. Repeat. Cloud has no idea how long other SOLDIERs can go, as he is exclusively used by the first class, but Zack continues to fuck his mouth and shoot in the trough about six or seven times. Cloud has lost the exact count by the final time, body twisted uncomfortably to reach the bottom of the trough so he can lick up every last drop. His stomach is huge and hinders any chance of him kneeling properly and his swollen tits sag painfully.

But he eats like a starving man, because he is. He buries his face in it because Zack will kick him forward otherwise, and he doesn’t want to hurt the precious litter in his stomach. He may not get to mother them – doesn’t even know what happens to them, between birth and when they become SOLDIERs – but they’re his and they’re one of the only bright spots in this dark, abysmal, place.

“C’mere,” beckons Zack, when he’s decided that Cloud is done. There’s no furniture in Cloud’s stall, just a poor excuse for a bedroll and the bucket where he shits and pisses, and the bucket he drinks water from. Zack wrinkles his nose at these things like he doesn’t see them almost every day, moves to sit with his back against the door, pats his lap. Cloud dutifully crawls over because he knows that’s how Zack likes it. For everything else in the facility, the stock are allowed to walk on their own two feet occasionally, because it’s faster for a pregnant person to move that way. Shinra was nothing if not efficient. But Zack doesn’t care how fast it takes for Cloud to get to the milking machines, or to the communal showers to be hosed down, or to the lab for testing. He cares about watching Cloud crawl over to him, and settling him in his lap.

“You’re the prettiest little thing,” he croons, voice sticky sweet with what could almost be called affection. But Cloud knows it for what it really is: patronizing. He splays a hand over Cloud’s stomach, stretching out his fingers. “So full...so full of my cum, huh? You’re just a little cum whore, huh?”

Cloud stays silent. Cloud knows that Zack knows that he’s pregnant, with Sephiroth’s children, but Zack would never let him say that out loud. Not as long as he’s forbidden from knocking Cloud up, orders from his CO that he can’t refuse. So he’ll pretend Cloud is full of a ridiculous amount of cum instead, that he was responsible for the way Cloud looks. Cloud lets him have it, because there’s nothing else he can do instead.

“Say, ‘thank you, daddy,” Zack orders, pressing his hand down harder. Cloud knows one of the babies kicks; he can feel it, and it makes Zack growl, get more insistent. “Say, ‘thank you for feeding me, daddy.’”

“Thank you for feeding me,” Cloud mumbles. “Daddy.”

“That’s right,” says Zack, squeezing one of Cloud’s tits and watching milk dribble down his chest to his stomach. Cloud hates the way he desperately wants to lean over and lap it up. “One day I’ll fuck you full of babies, and you’ll be fat with  _ my _ offspring.”

This happens sometimes. Normally Zack likes to keep up the illusion until he leaves, but Sephiroth must have pissed him off recently.

Cloud just nods. There’s nothing he can say, no point in protesting. If Zack wants to do it, he’ll do it. Cloud can’t do anything to stop him, although he’s sure that he will be the one who gets punished; by Shinra, by Sephiroth himself, if it were to happen.

Zack’s own words seem to piss him off enough that he stands up and collects himself, tucking his cock back in and dusting his pants off as he pulls them up. Cloud watches him, and hates the way his stomach cramps with hunger, hates the way he wants to ask Zack to stay and give him more, just a little bit more.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything, just sits and watches Zack go, knowing he’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that, and infinitely after that. This hell is never ending, and Cloud is slowly losing the will to leave. Give it a few more weeks, and the fire will finally be snuffed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all know the drill, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all! If you get rude I'll just delete your comment.
> 
> However, if you do have something nice to say, kudos + comments always appreciated <3


End file.
